


Kiss the Cook

by blueelvewithwings



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angsty Interlude, Cooking Lessons, Food, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Meet-Cute, Valentine's Day Fluff, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-23 13:33:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17684435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueelvewithwings/pseuds/blueelvewithwings
Summary: When Mick makes Len go to a cooking class, Len is very reluctant to go. But when he meets Barry there, he might just change his mind. In fact, he might just change his mind about his opinion on love, as well.





	Kiss the Cook

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Goda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goda/gifts).



> //This is my entry for the ColdFlash Valentine's Exchange. I got to write for Goda, and their prompts were an absolute joy! I ended up settling for prompt #4: Mick has gotten tired of Len nearly destroying the kitchen every time he tries to cook. He forces him into a cooking class. Guess who he gets partnered with?  
> I hope you'll like it and that I did it justice!

It had all started with the Palmer Tech job, really. Mick had been supposed to act as a security guard and steal that piece of tech they needed for the next job. And Mick had come back with the piece of tech, but he had also come back with Doctor Raymond fucking Palmer himself attached to his hips, and attached to his lips as well. They didn’t tell Len the story behind it, but he also kind of didn’t want to know. He figured it would just be a phase, that Mick needed to have someone for a night or two again, and then the Science Nerd would leave again. 

Two months later, when he was still around and as good as moved into Mick and Len’s shared flat, Len grudgingly admitted to himself that maybe Ray Palmer would be a more permanent installation in their lives. Not that he could really complain about it. The man was a nerd and could get an award for social awkwardness, but he was kind and polite and included Len in the things that he and Mick were doing. Sometimes the three of them even cuddled on the couch together instead of leaving Len sitting in the armchair to the side. 

Still, he couldn’t help but to feel a little jealous and left out. And a jealous Len was a clingy Len, he knew that. He also sensed that it was starting to get on Mick’s nerves, how Len would drop in on all of their dinners, and always demand they make enough for three people. He always claimed that he couldn’t cook for shit. Which was true, even though that wasn’t the real reason he pushed into their one-on-one time. He simply didn’t want to feel alone. And sometimes he felt a little pissed and petty because he’d known and loved Mick for so much longer than Ray, and now Mick spent all his time with the science nerd and hardly ever paid attention to Len anymore. 

He knew Mick had had enough when, about half a year into his relationship with Ray, Mick thrust a piece of paper into his hand with a grunt and waited, clearly expecting Len to read it straight away. 

Frowning, Len examined the paper in his hand. It turned out to be a voucher for a ten-evenings’ cooking course. Before Len could even open his mouth to complain, Mick spoke. 

“You’ve been getting too clingy, Lenny. Ray’s good, okay? He’s good for me. I’m not going to let you push between us. So learn your own fucking cooking, and leave us alone at least once a week.”

Well, that hurt. “I’m not getting too clingy,” Len protested, even though he clearly knew he was. 

He also valued his life and his health though, as well as his living arrangement with Mick (and Ray), so he had no choice but to accept. Mick hadn’t said it, but Len knew he’d find himself shoved off to another safehouse soon enough if he kept intruding on Mick and Ray’s alone time. 

They should just be glad that he’d given up his habit of walking unannounced into Mick’s room, he thought bitterly as he entered an unassuming apartment building the next week and made his way to the top floor.

He had expected something like a classroom, but really it was like a giant kitchen, with several ovens and cooktops, and more pots and pans than any person would possibly ever need. Ah well, this was not just for one person, so he guessed it was understandable. 

Everyone seemed to be there with a partner, either a friend or a romantic partner, and one pair that he assumed to be grandfather and granddaughter. Len was the only one who’d showed up alone. Just great, an outcast from the start. He tentatively approached one of the free stoves and looked over the prepped ingredients. Meat of some sort, potatoes, veggies, a bunch of different looking small green plants (probably herbs???), and then different pans and knives and strange-looking utensils that he had no idea what he’d use for. The laid-out recipe informed him that he’d be making a lamb dish, so he assumed the meat laid out must be lamb then. Well, at least he liked that a lot.

Ten minutes into the course, they had barely done more than say hello and introduce themselves, and the teacher was just starting to go over some basic knife safety tips with them when the door opened and a tall, lanky young man stepped in, all windblown brown hair and an awkward smile that could rival Ray’s. “Hi… sorry I’m late, I’m Barry.” Barry dropped his bag on the side and shuffled over to the last free stove where he grabbed the apron and tied it effortlessly around his waist. Len had struggled much more with tying a bow blindly behind his back. The younger man looked up and gave Len another one of those awkward and adorable smiles, and Len could see the green of his eyes sparkle for a moment. 

He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but this came awfully close. Whoever this person was, Len wanted to get to know him better. 

“You here alone, Barry?” he whispered over the knife safety instructions that Barry didn’t seem to be paying much attention to either.

Barry looked up, a little sheepishly, and gave a nod. Len put on his most charming smile and patted the counterspace beside him. “Let’s team up then? Ingredients are for two, I heard, and I’m alone as well. I’m Leonard Wynters. You can call me Len.”

“Hi Len,” Barry murmured as he slid over, and Len felt his cold heart warm up a little as he looked at Barry’s smiling face.

He wasn’t sure about the cooking, but maybe Mick had been on to something, with sending him here. 

Barry Allen turned out to be a CSI, but Len was determined not to let that deter him. The man didn’t know who Len truly was, after all. Fake names in public were second nature at this point anyway. When Barry asked him what he did for a living while chopping the potatoes more expertly than someone in a cooking course should be able to do, he told him that he worked in the finance sector. It wasn’t even technically a lie, probably, if one were willing to think around several corners. 

“So, what brings you here to a cooking course, then? You seem perfectly fine following this recipe on your own without the teacher breathing down your back to explain every step,” Len asked, instead of letting Barry ask him more questions about his supposed line of work. And indeed, Barry did most of the work for them and patiently explained to Len where Len had no idea how to do something or what to do. But the teacher hadn’t been by a single time to check up on them yet. Strange. 

Barry a chuckled a bit, seeming almost embarrassed. “I come here a lot,” he admitted. He grabbed a zucchini to start slicing it while Len was still struggling with his onion. Who knew that vegetables were so impossible to cut?

“I really like cooking, and I like learning new techniques every once in a while so I come here. My friends and family don’t really… I don’t know, they’re weird sometimes about how I like to cook fancy things, and here I’m not alone with it. So what brings you here?” Barry put his cut up zucchini in a bowl and snatched the second half of the onion, effortlessly slicing it into much more perfect slices than Len had managed. Stubbornly, Len grabbed the green leafy things they were supposed to cut up as well. He started pulling the leaves off the stems, insistent to prove himself in some way. He wouldn’t let Barry do all of the work here. 

“My… um… my roommate made me go, he was fed up with me not being able to feed myself and he thinks instant ramen and mac and cheese are no way to live.”

Roommate. That was what Mick was now, right? They’d never defined what they were, and what they had been had changed over time, but Len had the distinct impression that what Mick meant when he called Len his partner was different than what it had been a year ago. 

Barry looked at him, totally appalled. “Instant ramen and mac and cheese? Yeah, good thing he made you come here then. Maybe you’ll pick up some useful things here. Eating well is important.”

Len couldn’t really contradict him in that point, but he also had never really cared enough about his own nutrition. He’d made Lisa eat as much fruit and veggies as they could afford when they were younger, nevermind that she’d tried to stab out his eyes with a fork for trying to feed her kale, but he’d never directed that same care to himself. And now he was just a creature of habit, and Mick’s cooking was amazing, as was Ray’s, so he just tried to get as much of those as he could. 

Or maybe, if he was very lucky, Barry could cook for him sometime…

“They list this course as a beginner’s class, but really they expect you to have some prior knowledge. But I’d be happy to help you… Maybe we could team up for the rest of the class? If you want to, that is, and if you’re even coming back and if no one else is coming with you and I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to and-” he took a breath, looking away. 

“I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Len reached over in front of him to drop the chopped herbs into the bowl. “Yeah, a little. It’s cute.”

Barry didn’t stop blushing for an entirety of twelve minutes.

Even working along with Barry, Len had no idea how they finished it in the end. But when everything was done and cleaned up, they sat down on the long table, across from one another, and the lamb fillet with potatoes and veggies on their plate smelled heavenly. Len would have had no idea how to put something like this together, and he still would not be able to recreate it, let alone on his own. But he couldn’t mind that when Barry was sitting across from him and beaming at him like the sun itself. 

“I hope you’ll like it,” Barry murmured and pointed at their plates. “This was already on the schedule last year, and then I oversalted the lamb, but I hope it’s better now… This time I had good company, at least.” He blushed when he stated that, but he held Len’s gaze and didn’t end up a rambling mess. 

Was he flirting? Len certainly hoped so.

“I’m glad you liked the company,” he told Barry with a smile and stole a piece of potato from the other man’s plate. “I liked the company too.”

The lamb was perfect this time. Barry chalked it up to having had practice before, but Len thought that maybe it was just because Barry was a really good cook. He could rival Mick, even, and he liked this better than what Ray was usually cooking. Then again, Ray had his special dietary needs that required some weird things and forbid him others, so Len shouldn’t judge his cooking on that.

But this, this was perfect. He could almost imagine he was on a date with a cute guy, out in a fancy restaurant. And the way Barry smiled at him… Len felt himself melt on the inside a bit, and he knew he was a lost cause. He really shouldn’t fall for people so easily, especially people he had just met. Usually it took Len years to trust someone new. With Ray it had only been a few months, but that was only because Mick already trusted Ray and Mick was one of the two most important people in Len’s life. 

But Barry… he’d only met him a few hours ago and he’d already breezed past all Len’s defenses and straight to his tender core. He was screwed, really. 

“Will I see you again next week?” he asked when they were wrapping up. Barry had insisted that Len take all the leftovers with him, and Len hadn’t found it in himself to argue. The thought of more of that tasty lamb together with memories of Barry were sure to get him through the day tomorrow. He hadn’t originally planned to actually stick with the course. He’d gone to humour Mick and to placate him, but now he couldn’t wait for next Wednesday to come. He really had it bad. And he definitely should feel more panicked about that.

“Of course, I’ll be here. Though I have to warn you, I do tend to run late...”

“So I noticed,” Len teased him, and helped him into his jacket before holding the door for him. Barry’s responding blush was just too cute, and Len couldn’t resist dropping a kiss on his cheek when they reached his car. 

“I had a great time tonight. See you next week.”

And then, before he could do more damage than that, he quickly got into his car and pulled out of the parking spot. In the rear view mirror, he could see Barry still standing there, hand on the cheek where Len had kissed him and blushing furiously. When he looked again a few moments later, Barry was gone and there was no trace of him anywhere to be seen. Huh. Curious. 

When he got home, Len deposited the leftovers in the fridge and threatened Mick with castration if he so much as looked at them wrong. That was Len’s food that he’d cooked (or at least ten percent of it) so it was off limits. 

Mick wisely didn’t say anything, but raised an eyebrow as Len dropped on the couch next to him and cuddled up to him. Ray reached over from the other side of Mick and rearranged the blanket over the three of them. Len leaned against Mick and listened to Ray chatter along with trivia about the movie they were watching, closed his eyes and thought of Barry. 

The next week was spent finally working on that piece of tech Mick had stolen from Palmer Tech more than half a year ago. He had no idea how Ray managed to live with two criminals who’d stolen from him and also run a billion dollar company at the same time, but as long as Ray didn’t berate them for their lifestyle, Len wouldn’t bring it up. 

In the end, Ray even helped him take apart the device so he could fit the parts he needed into his cold gun. “Just don’t hurt anyone with it,” was all Ray said on the matter, and Len pretended not to hear him. This upgrade was meant to finally catch them the Flash, after all, and Len intended to do more than just hurt him. 

No one challenged Len in his own territory and got away with it. 

Len was early to the cooking class the next week, and he’d already started on the onion chopping by the time Barry showed up. The slices came out a little more evenly than the week before, if you asked Len. Or maybe that was just because his eyes were watering and he couldn’t see properly. 

“Thanks for already getting started! Sorry for being late,” Barry told him breathlessly, and grabbed the laid out chicken without even checking the recipe first. Come to think of it, though, there had been a plan online that Len had seen, so maybe Barry had checked that one out too. This week’s dish was supposed to be chicken thighs and some fancy form of rice that Len didn’t know. He never cared much what his food was called, as long as it was tasty.

“No matter, I’m sure you’ll catch up soon,” he told the younger man. He didn’t understand why that made Barry chuckle so much, but maybe it was some sort of inside joke that Len didn’t understand. 

Before he arrived that day he’d had half a mind to apologize for the kiss the week prior, but Barry didn’t seem pertubed by it. He also didn’t mention it, so Len had no idea how on board he had been with it, but at least he didn’t tell Len off . So of course, Len couldn’t help but fantasize about more kisses. Watching Barry move around the kitchen area was really something, and Len found himself watching him more than the chicken that he was supposed to prevent from burning. They ended up with slightly charred chicken thighs, but Barry proclaimed that he’d always liked them a little “more deeply coloured” and waved Len’s concern away. 

“You’re doing fine! Cooking’s not something you learn in one evening, as much as these courses want to make you believe that. It takes practice.” He looked a bit torn then, as if maybe he wanted to say some more, but in the end he didn’t and just beamed at Len again. That smile would be the end of Len, really.

The chicken tasted a little bit burned in the end, but the rice dish was really nice. Barry told him that the chicken was also gorgeous, but Len could see him pull a face when he thought Len wasn’t looking. Nice try. 

This time when they were standing next to Len’s car it was Barry who took home the leftovers (“since you didn’t like the chicken”), and it was also Barry who kissed Len on the cheek, so tenderly that Len had to close his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, Barry was gone. 

That man sure knew how to disappear. 

He got the middle seat of the couch that night, and Ray didn’t even lecture him about being unhealthy when he ate half a tub of ice cream while watching their movie. Maybe Barry knew how to make ice cream… he should ask him some time. 

They always tended to pull their break-ins and heists during the night, but the museum they were targeting now was conveniently closed for some reason or other. Probably they were scrubbing it thoroughly before the nice diamond they were going to steal was presented to the public, so Len and Mick and their crew went in during the day. And it went all swimmingly. Of course – Len knew how to plan their heists. 

But of course, the Flash showed up towards the end of it, just before they made it out of the museum. Len dropped the bag with their loot and raised his gun, smirk already in place. Well, now they’d see how fast the Flash was. And how cold-resistant. 

Five minutes later he had the Flash pinned to a column, his midriff encased in ice. He was struggling still, but clearly that therma-threading hadn’t kicked in yet. Served him right. Len wouldn’t care if he perished trying to prevent this robbery. He wanted the Flash out of his way, no matter how. He approached, gun still raised, finger on his trigger. His goggles had come off at some point during the fight, and he knew the Flash could see his face now. Didn’t matter, it would be the last thing he saw anyway. He put on his proudest smirk and prowled closer. 

“Come here to die, eh, Flash?” He powered up his gun, and locked eyes with the hero. He couldn’t pin down why, but somehow that made him think of Barry. Sweet, wonderful Barry with the happy smile that had kissed Len on the cheek and who’d taken it upon him to eat the rest of the burned chicken just so that Len didn’t have to. Sweet, gorgeous Barry who he’d see again in just a few hours to cook some steak beside him. Sweet, cute, smart Barry who’d never speak to him again if he had just an inkling of who Len really was. 

The gun powered down again and Len let it sink down to his side with a sigh. “Have fun with it then. I’ll give you a little while to reflect on what you could have done better,” he drawled, and holstered his gun. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t face Barry later, knowing he had killed a person in cold blood just before. With a last look at the whimpering speedster, he picked up their bags and walked out, slipping into the car where Mick was already waiting, and they made it out into the street and general traffic just before the police cars pulled up in front of the museum. Hopefully the Flash was dead by then. Even his body shouldn’t be able to withstand absolute zero for that long, especially not with that vicious upgrade he’d made. 

Barry didn’t show up for the cooking course at all that day. 

Len’s steak ended up being pure charcoal, and he tossed it out before he even reached his car on the way back. He ate all of Mick and Ray’s leftovers for dinner once he was home, but something in his face prevented them from protesting. They came to sleep in his bed during the night though, curled up around him, wrapping him up in their arms. Sometimes he really wished he could be part of their relationship, but he also knew that that wasn’t really his place. Mick and Ray were good for one another, and they were good with the two of them. He was lucky to have them as his cuddle buddies still, really. That was what Ray called him, and even though he pretended to hate that term he secretly really liked it. 

Maybe Barry could be more than just a friend for him down the line… but considering he hadn’t even showed up, maybe he didn’t care as much as Len did after all. 

Two days later, the Flash saved people from a crashing building.

By the end of the weekend, Lisa had lured Cisco Ramon and his brother in, and a day later Len had a stinging conscience because of one pianist’s hands and a name. 

_Barry Allen._

Len wanted to throw up. 

Of course Barry hadn’t come to the cooking class, Len had nearly killed him just hours before, and he’d seen his face on top of it. He knew what Len really was, and what he was capable of. He’d never want anything to do with him ever again now. And Len… Len had hurt one of those people on the precious short list of people he never ever wanted to hurt. Lisa, Mick, Ray… and Barry. 

Oh god, Barry. Somehow the thought that Barry could tell his cop colleagues about him, that he’d be taken and imprisoned for what he did to Barry and the most recent heists – it all paled in comparison to the thought of having hurt the man. He suddenly had vivid images playing in his head, of Barry impaled by the ice the Len had shot at him, scared of the man that he’d kissed on the cheek less than a week before, hurting and in panic, not knowing if he’d make it out…

He knew already that the Flash must have some form of accelerated healing, but that didn’t make it better. He surely must feel all the pain regardless. Oh god, what had he done?

He hadn’t originally intended to let Ramon and his brother go, but he couldn’t stomach hurting Barry more by hurting his friend. So he dropped them both off at the hospital so they could get someone to look at the brother’s frozen hands. 

It was no surprise to him when he was suddenly whisked away from his desk with his blueprints spread out, and everything was suddenly a blur until the world went still again in the forest outside of Central City, and he was standing across from the Flash – across from Barry, who was in his suit but had his cowl down. He didn’t look happy at all. 

“Barry, I...” He didn’t know what to say, really. What could he say? What could he say that would make this better? He was a thief and a criminal, and Barry was everyone’s saviour. There would never be common ground between them. As much as it hurt him, he’d already put safety measures in place, things to upload and spread Barry’s identity, should something happen to him before he could stop it. As much as he’d fallen for Barry, he still looked out for himself first. 

“Finance sector, huh?” Barry was standing ramrod straight, looking him directly in the eyes. “Maybe, if one were to think around several corners, that wouldn’t even be a lie, Leonard _Snart_.”

Funny, how Len had thought the exact same thing when telling him that. “Well, we don’t all have a mask to hide behind and an unassuming day job. Some of us need to pretend a bit and use fake names.”

“Or you could just get a day job and tell the truth,” Barry shot right back. 

“Can’t do that“, Len retorted, shrugging rather excessively. He knew he came across as abrasive right now, but that was his defense mechanism. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted Barry, but he also needed to be true to himself. He liked being a criminal, he liked the game, the chase, the need to constantly get better. He was an adrenaline junkie, and that was how he got it. He couldn’t just give that up and open a bakery or something. Not even for Barry. Especially not if he recalled that this was only the third time he had seen him without the mask on. 

He told Barry as much, and watched as the speedster frowned more and more. In the end he sighed and looked away, defeated.

“You don’t need to kill to steal though, Snart.” … _Snart_. Wow, how much that name hurt, coming from the mouth that had so happily called him Len before. Len searched Barry’s eyes, trying to determine what he really meant. Was this an olive branch?

“No… I guess I don’t need to kill,” he admitted, and was impossibly relieved when Barry took one step forward. He let his hands come up and rest on Barry’s waist, wanting to assure himself that he was fine, that he was really here and healed. Barry winced a little, but didn’t pull away. 

“I never meant to hurt you,” Len admitted, in a voice so low he was sure Barry wouldn’t have heard it if he had only stood back a few more inches. 

“I know, you didn’t want to hurt me, just the Flash,” Barry gave back, but he didn’t pull away from Len’s touch. 

“I have it on good authority that the Flash will be taken off our hit list as well,” Len murmured, and was rewarded with one of those sweet chuckles. 

“You know, if you are as good as you claim to be, no one else really needs to die for you to get what you want, Len,” He was so close now, almost close enough to kiss. What would he do if Len were to just lean in….?

“That’s true,” he drawled instead, staring into Barry’s eyes and wishing he could fall into them. Why did it have to be Barry? Of course it was. Of course Len couldn’t fall for someone who wouldn’t end up being a problem for once. 

“And Snart, if you hurt my friends or family again, I don’t care who you tell my identity to, I’m putting you away,” Barry threatened, though something in his voice made Len doubt that he’d go through with it. But he also wouldn’t have thought that sweet Barry was the Flash, so there was that. 

“Your secret’s safe with me, Flash.“ For now, he wanted to say - but he knew he’d never really tell people who the Flash was. It could get him hurt, and he didn’t want Barry to be hurt. Even if he was the Flash. 

“I don’t suppose you’ll give me a ride back to town?“

A quiet chuckle, and then lips on the corner of his own mouth. “I’ll see you at cooking class this week, Len.”

A whoosh, and then silence. Len let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “Cute.”

Barry did show up that week, while Len was struggling his way through prepping some leek, and he poked Len in the side when he innocently asked him if he’d raced there. Well, at least he had some explanations now for how Barry had managed to disappear so quickly after the class every time. 

Their soup turned out great, and Barry sat beside Len and held his hand under the table as they both ate their dinner. The pie for dessert was still in the oven. 

“We never made dessert here before - why start now?” Len wondered, and Barry gave him a curious glance. 

“They only let us make dessert with the very easy dinners, like this stew.” Len wouldn’t have classified that as very easy, but he didn’t say anything. He wasn’t the one with more cooking experience here. 

They left hand in hand this time, and Barry snatched the plastic container holding the stew from Len and scribbled a series of numbers on it before handing it back. 

“Maybe call me sometime and I’ll make something fancy for you, Snart.” Barry leaned in, quick as a flash – pun intended – and kissed Len on the lips before disappearing in a streak of yellow lightning. 

Len would forever deny squealing into his hands afterwards. 

It took Mick threatening to make him go back to eating instant mac and cheese to work up the nerve to call Barry, but by Saturday evening he found himself in Barry’s amazingly large apartment, leaning against his kitchen counter and watching him cook. He’d asked if he could help, but after nearly cutting off his finger trying to chop a potato, Barry had simply taken the knife out of his hands and kissed his cheek. 

“Just watch,” he’d told him. “Watching helps in understanding it.”

So he was watching, and he had to agree that simply following the motions, and having Barry explain something once in a while, helped him wrap his mind around cooking more than being thrown in the deep end and trying to wrangle his way through it. He mourned the burned steak he’d attempted that one week alone for a moment, but quickly chased the thought away. He wasn’t quite ready to face why Barry hadn’t come to class that week. 

“So why do you like cooking so much? I can see by now that you really don’t need the class, but you clearly love it. But why?”

Barry turned to look at him for a moment before checking on his veggies in the oven. He chuckled, as though a bit embarrassed, and shrugged. “It’s going to sound weird, honestly. I like it because it’s slow? I can speed up so many things - running, reading, teaching myself new skills, working in the lab… And then when you can do it everyone expects you to, and it’s easier sometimes because more gets done in a shorter time, but it’s also exhausting. It doesn’t always take less effort to do things at superspeed. But cooking… yeah, I can speed through the chopping and the prep work, and I certainly speed through the dishes all the time, but I can’t speed up the stove, or the oven. The potatoes will still take the same time to cook because the water doesn’t boil them faster, and the cake won’t bake any faster. It forces me to slow down, and really… I need that sometimes. Sometimes I just want to be normal and not special at all. Just Barry. Just human. I don’t want to be the Flash all the time.”

Somehow, with the way he was saying it, it sounded he had been shouldering that for a while, with it festering there. Maybe he had friends that were pushing him always to be better, always to be the Flash. He could very well imagine it. Time for a change, then. 

“I don’t think that sounds weird at all.” He took a bowl from Barry and grabbed the flour. Barry was making pie for dessert, so Len figured he could just as well have a second try at making pie crust. He’d be more careful about measurements this time. “I think it’s normal to want to be yourself. Everyone wants something to soothe themselves from time to time.” Judging by the way Barry smiled at him, not many people had given him that response before. 

If one could reach an orgasm just through good food, Len thought later as he sat back on Barry’s couch with a groan, he’d be milked dry by now. Barry sure did know how to cook. And when Barry flopped down next to him, it was all too easy to pull him into his arms and just lean against him, holding him close. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you, you know. The Flash, yes, but never you...”

“Mm, but now you won’t hurt the Flash anymore either, will you?” Barry asked him, and Len would never be able to understand how such trusting eyes could be turned to him after what he’d done. 

“No, I’ll never hurt the Flash anymore either,” he admitted, and it only felt natural when Barry leaned up and kissed him in response. There were no fireworks going off in the distance, and no blinding light around them as everything else dropped away, but there was a sense of rightness, and the feeling that this was where they were meant to be, right here, right now. He pulled Barry a little closer and deepened the kiss, licking along the seam of Barry’s lips. 

Barry, it turned out, was all too eager to let Len in, in more ways than one. 

“You really do vibrate,” Len remarked later, much later, as he rolled off of Barry and flopped onto the bed next to him to cool off. Barry just chuckled and rolled on top of Len to snuggle into his chest. So much for cooling off. 

“I’m better than any toy can be, I can tell you that.“ And Len believed him. He was thoroughly ruined for everything and everyone else now. He pushed Barry away to go clean himself up, and after Barry was clean too they crawled back into bed together, curled up and limbs tangled. Before Len fell asleep, he thought that he hadn’t even put his cold gun nearby, but that Barry could speed them out in case of an emergency anyway. 

He woke up to Barry already awake, still in bed next to him and reading on his phone. Len shifted closer and tried to make out some words, but he was still too tired and blinded by the light of the screen. “Mm, what you reading, Scarlet?“

Barry turned his head at the sound of Len’s voice and gave him a blinding smile. “Just some… stories.” He quickly shut off his screen and put his phone away and turned fully towards Len. “Sleep well?”

Now, Len would have been clueless just a year ago, but he’d been living with a certified nerd for over half a year by then, so he had gotten some ideas about things. 

“Stories? When Ray says that he means fanfiction, but he never lets me look.”

Barry’s responding blush was too cute, and it told Len that he’d hit the nail on the head. 

“It’s Dragon Age fanfiction… about two guys meeting at a cooking class, just like we did. I like it.” Barry regarded him for a moment, then seemed to come to a conclusion. He grabbed his phone and unlocked it, handing it to Len. “I’ll go make breakfast, you’ll go sate your curiosity. And then you can tell me if it’s too nerdy for you.” And with that, he slid out of bed, leaving Len with a phone that wasn’t his and a story to read about two dudes he’d never even heard about. He thought he’d heard Mick mention he’d played Dragon Age at some point though… or maybe that had been Ray. Part of him wanted to snoop through Barry’s phone, but he also was genuinely curious about this fanfiction thing, so he ended up sitting back and reading the story that Barry had open. It was cute, really. The one guy clearly had a lot of issues, but didn’t everyone? And really, it was pretty similar to how he’d first met Barry. Of course, he’d met the Flash earlier, but somehow that didn’t really seem to count. What counted was when he’d met Barry himself. 

Before he could stop himself he’d also read the second and third instalment of the series, and only the smell of bacon coming from the kitchen stopped him from jumping into the fourth as well. He should really remember the site he’d seen them on. Maybe he could find some stories about characters from his favourite movies there later…

“I like your fanfiction,” he told Barry when he joined him in the kitchen and stole a piece of bacon. “You like reading that a lot?”

“It’s nice that there’s so much content. I usually read at superspeed and then things are just over so fast… and with fanfiction there’s always the next fic to read, and the next and the next, and then another pairing or for some other media… It doesn’t run out and I’m not done after ten seconds. So yeah, I read that a lot.”

Len liked that Barry wasn’t apologetic about it at all. He was always a babbling mess, but here he was completely sure of himself, and didn’t seem embarrassed in the least. Len could have kissed him. So he did. 

Their eggs ended up being burned, but it was so worth it. 

He picked Barry up for their next cooking class, and they arrived together hand in hand. The instructor gave them a glance and then directed a warm, knowing smile towards Barry, who just squeezed Len’s hand and smiled back. 

The chicken curry that week came out absolutely amazing, and Len was happy that he had made the sauce mostly by himself. He’d never be a great cook like Barry or Mick, but maybe in time he’d be able to hold his own. Maybe he’d at least pick up enough so he wouldn’t need to go back to instant ramen all the time. Or maybe he’d pick up his own personal cook, he thought with a sideways glance towards Barry. They were holding hands again, openly on the table by now, and Barry had just hand-fed him a piece of curried chicken. Some of the other couples were giggling at them, but all of them good-naturedly. And somehow, in here, Len couldn’t find it in himself to be angry and snarl at them. This was a space to be happy, and to learn, and maybe he’d learn more than just cooking here. Maybe he had an inkling of understanding why Barry would come back to these courses. 

He wondered if Barry had ever thought he’d meet someone in a cooking class, like the two guys from the fanfic had. It was strange how eerily similar the setting was, really. One could almost think that Len and Barry’s story could also be written in a piece of fanfiction. But luckily, this was real. Real and amazing, and Len loved every second of it. 

Ray and Barry got on like a house on fire from the start. Really, it hadn’t been hard to predict, two nerdy scientists who’d taken up with criminals. Within minutes, they’d exchanged numbers and set a date for a movie night with things that Mick and Len had refused to watch with Ray. Barry also instantly recognized Ray as Dr. Palmer from Palmer Tech and “the guy who’s building the dwarfstar-alloy powered suit oh my gosh is that really you I can’t believe it oh god it’s such an honour to meet you I can’t believe it oh my oh god I’m rambling I should stop.” Ray in return was super interested in Barry’s powers and the science behind it, and Len was sure that he wouldn’t understand a single word they said to one another on their movie night. 

It took Barry a little while longer to get Mick to crack, but once he brought a pie over for dessert and mentioned he’d baked it with gluten free flour so Ray could have a piece too, and complimented Mick’s use of herbs in the casserole they were having, Mick was smitten. Of course he was - it was impossible not to be smitten by Barry. 

There was a short moment of tension when Mick actually realised who Barry was, but then he clapped him on the shoulder so hard that Barry stumbled under the force and told him “good for you - now Lenny won’t shoot you again,” and went to grab another beer from the fridge. 

Barry was a bit confused when he was included in their usual cuddle pile on the sofa, but soon relaxed into it and let Mick card his fingers through his hair while he snuggled up to Len. Maybe Barry would fit in their cuddle buddy arrangement, as well. 

The next time the Flash was there to stop a heist, their banter was more flirty than it had ever been, and in the end Flash kissed Cold on the lips after charging at him, taking him by surprise and slipping the bag with money out of his hand. 

“See you later, love,” he whispered, and was gone in a trail of lightning. Len and Mick made it back out and into their getaway car before the police arrived, but they were empty handed. “You’re smiling like an idiot,” Mick informed Len, who couldn’t be bothered to mind that. Really, who needed the adrenaline kick of getting away with something, if you could fight your boyfriend in a super tight superhero costume instead?

They still went to the cooking classes, and by now Len had actually started to pay attention. There was a plan forming in his head, and he’d always been good at plans and breaking them down into the pieces he needed - to learn and explore, case out and watch over. So he learned how to properly sear meat and steam vegetables, how to fry things and how to regulate oven temperature. He learned which doughs to make with room temperature butter and which to make with cold butter. He messed up plenty along the way, but he learned. 

He insisted that on February 14th they’d eat in, that they wouldn’t go out like everyone else. Mick and Ray would be at their apartment, so Len coaxed Barry into a date at Barry’s place. Barry was working, of course, so Len snuck in in the morning after Barry had left and went to work. 

It was a terrible headache, and he needed about twice the ingredients than he should have because he still had the tendency to burn things, but he managed to put together a steak dinner with potatoes and a nice salad – and the steak wasn’t burned. He managed to get it nice and medium. The dessert he’d put together was pretty simple, a fruit parfait with lots of sugar, but that was all he had dared to do. He still wasn’t really on speaking terms with ovens, and he’d rather have something simple but nice than something he had attempted and failed. 

He even managed to set the table before Barry came home, wine glasses and candles and a bouquet of roses and everything. He might not normally be one for romantic gestures, but Barry totally was, and he wanted Barry to be happy. So. Really, there was no question what he’d do. 

To say that Barry was happy would be an understatement. He flew into Len’s arms as he saw what Len had done and kissed him with abandon. “A Valentine’s dinner? Len, you’re the best!!“

He inspected everything and very enthusiastically told Len over and over again how gorgeous it was. And then, he froze. 

“Barry?“

“Uh.. um. I did… tell you about speedster metabolism, right?”

“Yeah, that you need like a hundred thousand calories a day. Why?” The moment he asked the question, he already knew it. A piece of meat, some potatoes and a salad would never be enough for Barry for a meal. But how…

“You always eat normal portions when you eat with me or us at home. How…?“

Barry scrubbed his hands over his face, suddenly looking embarrassed. He didn’t look at Len when he responded. “I only ever come over directly before dinner so I can go back home before and have some food before I eat dinner with you guys. I… I’m always so hungry, and I can’t really appreciate the food I eat at first because I’m just so hungry so I always make sure I’m almost full before dinner with you and the guys so I can appreciate the food like it deserves. So… um...” He looked at the table, set and ready to go, and he looked so guilty that Len couldn’t help but to step forward and take his hands. 

“So we keep our dinner warm while you have your pre-dinner, and then we’ll eat together.”

Barry still looked a bit embarrassed, but agreed easily enough in the end. Seeing the amount of pasta Barry put away in just a few short minutes was almost enough to make Len feel sick, but he reminded himself that while being able to eat as much as you can without gaining weight sounded great, the amount of food Barry had to put into himself on a daily basis was probably much beyond fun for him by now. And really, it looked like it was a chore for him, while usually he was so happy to eat and prepare food. Maybe it had to do with what he said about not being able to appreciate food when he was too hungry. 

Roughly five kilos of spaghetti and carbonara sauce later they were seated at the table, and Barry tasted like pasta when they kissed for the first time, like steak when they kissed again and like wine the third time. Then he reached over and took Len’s hand, holding it on the table, right next to the vase of roses Len had gotten him. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Len. And thank you for doing this for me.”

Len couldn’t help but smile back at him and give his hand a little squeeze. He might never be a skilled cook, or even particularly like cooking, but seeing Barry so obviously happy about a homemade meal from Len made him want to cook more often for his partner. 

“You know I’d do anything for you, Scarlet,” he replied, and lifted their hands to kiss the back of Barry’s. 

Oh, and he really should say thank you to Mick for forcing him to take that cooking class. He had been on to something with that, in the end. 

**Author's Note:**

> //The fanfic that Barry is reading here is based on a real one, one of my favourites, that has a similar set-up to this one. I referenced the [Menu du Jour](https://archiveofourown.org/series/960663) series by the wonderful [sallyamongpoison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sallyamongpoison/pseuds/sallyamongpoison). This has been done with their permission.


End file.
